Godot popped his neck absently, keeping his eyes on the case file he held in one hand and taking a sip of the bitter coffee he held in the other. He was currently reclined on the soft, leather sofa located in the prosecutors' lounge, one expensive, Italian clad foot resting on the mahogany coffee table in front of him, the other on the carpeted floor.

He smiled in anticipation of the upcoming trial. It started in a little over an hour and he figured he pretty much had it in the bag, so twenty minutes in court tops and he'd get the appropriate guilty verdict. So an hour, twenty minutes on the outside and Godot would be done for the day. Excellent. He would be free to….He frowned. Be free to do what, exactly? Pace around his empty, cavernous house? He pushed that thought from his mind and focused once again on the case at hand.

The defendant was, without a doubt, guilty. And as much as it pained Godot to have to take cases other than the ones rivaling that pathetic attorney Trite, it was a necessity. And as long as that was the case, he had to admit that being able to properly convict someone he knew to be guilty was a nice change from his former career as a defense attorney. Back then, it had been his job to get everyone an acquittal. And there had been many nights were he had lain awake in be, not because of his excessive intake of caffeine, but because he had single handedly allowed a killer to walk free on the streets. He didn't have that problem now that he was a prosecutor. He lay awake for a completely different reason now.

The defendant of the current case was, of course, accused of murder. He was a lieutenant on the police force and his ex wife woke up to find her current husband lying dead in the kitchen. The crime scene was impeccably clean; anything the forensics team would normally have picked up on was glaringly absent. The scene had been cleaned by a professional, someone who knew exactly what the cops would look for. Also, there had been no forced entry into the house, and the wife said that the locks had not been changed since her previous marriage, which would mean that the defendant would still be in possession of a key.

Plus, Godot had dug up an eye witness who claimed to have seen 'a young police officer' entering and leaving the house. It was a surprise witness that the woefully under prepared defense had no idea about.

Godot's smile resurfaced. He did love winning trials. He tossed back the rest of his coffee. Damn! It always went to fast. He really should look into getting a bigger mug. He placed his file on the table and stood up, stretching. He walked over to the counter with the brewing coffee pot, crossing the room quickly with his long strides.

Godot began pouring his coffee, watching the dark brown liquid spill into the mug. He glanced over his shoulder as the door slammed open and an agitated Payne stomped in.

What appeared to be a college student followed behind him, looking desperate. She had a notebook cradled in one arm, a book bag slung over her shoulder and a mechanical pencil tucked behind one ear.

Godot's first thought was how surprised he was at old, crotchety Payne dragging a good looking college girl around with him, but when she spoke in a tight, controlled voice with an angry expression, he amended is initial impression, turning back with a smirk.

"Mr. Payne, you are being completely ridiculously! My request is not so outrageous, and I really need this! I beg you to reconsider." The girl said through clenched teeth.

"Young lady, I said no! It is more than improper for a lawyer of my standing to have so young of a female assistant." Payne responded in his shrill, unpleasant voice. He stomped over to the large file cabinet in the corner, slamming one of the drawers open and shoving the files he was carrying in.

"It is not! The college has a program for law students to help them become part time assistants. My professor insists we get this job!"

"Well your professor obviously is not fully aware of what is and what is not appropriate in the work place! However…" The old prosecutor took a moment to look her up and down, smiling suggestively. "If you wish to meet me outside the confines of my workplace, I'm sure something can be arranged." He waggled his eyebrows.

Godot coughed in his attempt to cover his snort of laughter. He glanced over his shoulder again, in time to see the girl blush and step back. At least, he assumed she was blushing. To him, it appeared as if her cheeks were going slightly paler.

"Well, I, uh, that is to say…" She stuttered her response, trailing off.

Godot found her reaction kind of odd. His impression of her thus far would have led him to think that her response to an unwanted date request would be confident and even violent. But she'd suddenly turned completely shy.

"Hmm, yes, well that is the only offer I'm, uh, offering! Perhaps you should try one of the other prosecutors." Payne said, turning to the door. "I'm sure one of them is immoral enough to take you in. If you change your mind about our date, you know full well were to find me." And with that, he left.

The girl's eyes narrowed. "Well maybe you should tell me the address, just to make sure I don't send the pipe bomb to the wrong person." She muttered under her breath, sitting down heavily on one of the sofas.

"Ha…!" Godot sat on the opposite couch, picking his case files back up. "If you're sending old Payne a surprise package, be sure to put my name on it as well."

The girl glanced up at him quickly, obviously not realizing before that she had company in the room. After the moment of surprise she recovered and laughed good naturedly. "I don't really mean it, of course. But he really didn't need to be such and old frump about the assistant thing though."

"Maybe you needed to be more persistent. Adopt a more 'go and get 'em' attitude." Godot suggested with a smile.

"Persistent?" The girl said, running her hand through her long, blonde hair and sighing. "I chased that old bat through the entire complex! The only reason I stopped in here is because this is where I started harassing him."

Godot chuckled. "By persistent, I meant accepting his wonderful offer for a date." Godot saw the blush return. He turned his head to the side and smiled at her crookedly. "Charm the pants off him as it were."

She covered her mouth with her hand and laughed. "For the sake of my sanity and my gag reflex, we're going to pretend that Winston Payne's pants never come off. They're surgically attached."

"Ha…!" Godot laughed again.

The girl smiled in response to his booming laugh, but then she frowned again. "Damn! I still need to find someone willing to take me under. I guess I can just wait until tomorrow and try Payne again."

Godot propped his feet up on the table, shaking his head as he did so. "Nothing tastes worse than coffee you let sit over night and then attempt to warm up the next morning. No, best course of action is to dump it out, clean the pot and start fresh. Find yourself a different lawyer to badger." As he said this, he realized full well the direction this little encounter could turn and he quickly balanced the pros and cons of taking on an assistant. She didn't seem to much the type that would really get in his way, and it would be nice to have someone around to send for files and bounce ideas off of. Besides, he kind of liked this quick, easily blushing college girl.

The girl stared grumpily at the floor. "There aren't any prosecutors left. At least, not any I'd be willing to work under."

"Hmm, Fransiska VonKarma?"

"Oh please! Like it wouldn't be enough of a self esteem drain to have to work for someone five years younger than me who's already won like twenty cases, but I think the first time she tried to whip me with that crop of hers, I'd be forced to shove it down her pretty German throat. And I really don't think that would be good boss, employee relationship…Oh; please don't tell her I said that!"

Godot grinned, his teeth dazzlingly white. "Now there's something I'd pay money to see! How about the head prosecutor, Edgeworth?"

"I tried to talk to him a little bit, but he gives me the creeps. Don't get me wrong, he's extremely good looking and a real genius, but you try and make a joke around that guy and he gives you this look." She shuddered. "Not to mention that outfit of his looks like he pulled it off of a grocery store romance novel cover. And it's more pink than I'd be caught dead wearing."

Once again, Godot laughed at the girl's wit. He found he was actually enjoying their banter. "Well, it looks like you've run out of options. Would you like me to give you old Payne's home phone number so you can call about that date?"

She gave him a hard look. "Ha ha ha. That's really funny. Hmm, well I haven't run completely out of options. There's still that new guy. Huh. What's his name again?"

Godot concealed his smirk with his coffee mug. "Hmm, can't say I know who you're talking about. Can you describe him for me?"

She screwed her face up in thought. "Um, I've never seen him myself. He's supposed to be a real wiz in court though. Well, when he's not up against Wright. But that's true for every prosecutor here, I suppose."

"Well now, that's interesting." Godot rumbled in his deep voice. "Any physical description I can go on?"

She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip in thought, trying to recall the name she was looking for. "Well, my friend has been to a few of his trials, and for the explicit reason of watching him, actually. She described him as nothing short of gorgeous, but you never know with Katie."

"Hmm, no, I suppose you never do know with Katie." Godot was enjoying himself more than he should possibly, but that was okay. He rarely got to have any fun.

She continued. "Let's see. Tall, really tan. White hair, I think she said? Apparently he drinks a lot of coffee."

Godot relaxed on the couch, waiting for realization to hit her.

"Yeah, apparently perfect in everyway apart from the thing…on his…face…" The girl trailed off as she raised her eyes to the silver, hulking visor covering the top half of Godot's face. He had his chin resting in one hand and was tapping the visor slowly with his index finger, smiling at her. She gulped. "Oh good god, you're him. And now I've just completely talked myself into a corner, not only calling you gorgeous but pointing out your obvious physical imperfections. Wow, I am really on a roll today. Any dead relatives you were particularly close to that I could bring up and speak ill of?" she was blushing so hard now that she looked in danger of passing out. "I am so sorry if I've offended you. It certainly wasn't my intention. I'm really sorry."

Godot laughed vociferously at her dismayed expression. "No offense taken, I assure you. In fact, I fail to see how one could take offense at a beautiful young lady calling them gorgeous."

The girl fought back her quick blush and shot Godot and easy smile. "I'm sure Katie will be delighted to hear that you think she's beautiful."

"Ha…! You got me there." Godot said, shooting her a devilish smile of his own before throwing back the rest of his coffee.

"So, I don't suppose you remember that new prosecutor's name, do you? You know the incredibly skilled, tall, dark and handsome coffee addict?" She said lightly.

He had that crooked grin again. "Oh, yes. Now that you mention it, I do know that fellow. Tall, dark and handsome he definitely is. I'll tell you, if I didn't go for the ladies 100, I might be tempted by him."

She covered her mouth to laugh again, her eyes sparkling.

Godot stood up and walked over to the other couch, offering her his hand. "I'm prosecutor Godot." He turned his head to the side. "Upon meeting a beautiful woman, always ask her name and profession. That's one of my rules! So, lovely making your acquaintance miss--?"

"Ramona Karsten." She told him. She placed her hand in his, having every intention of shaking it, but instead she watched in surprise as he bowed his head over her hand and delicately brushed his lips over it. A few locks of his shockingly white hair fell forward to overlap his silver visor. She was completely struck dumb by this gentlemanly behavior right up until he released her hand, straightened up and grinned at her.

"Finally, a name to go with the face. Like I said, nice to meet you miss Ramona Karsten."

Ramona swallowed; composing herself, she threw him a smirk. "Oh, that was horribly cliché prosecutor Godot."

Godot laughed, placing his hands in his pockets. "I'm glad you like it. I'm afraid I lifted it directly out of a James Bond movie."

"A Sean Connery one I hope. He's the only James Bond I'll ever like. Roger Moore wasn't horrible, but the rest aren't even worth mentioning." She said, pursing her lips.

"Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way darling." Godot replied in a near perfect imitation of the actors British/Scottish drawl. His voice was actually too deep for him to pull off a perfect rendition. Fancy that.

Ramona grinned, not covering it with her hand this time, and Godot got a glimpse of the girlish dimples she sported on each cheek and her straight, white teeth. She laughed in delight. "Brilliant! Now do John Wayne!"

"Ha…! You are a witty one." Godot walked once again to the coffee pot. "Would you like some coffee Miss Ramona Karsten?"

"You sound like that whip happy VonKarma girl when you use my full name. Just call me Ramona." She grinned then. "Or your highness. You can call me Ramona or your highness, the great Ramona. Either one."

Godot chuckled. "For simple speed factor, I believe I'll stick to Ramona. Now, Ramona, would you like some coffee?"

"Yes please Mr. Godot." She said politely. Then after a moment, she spoke again. "Er, Prosecutor Godot?"

Godot was pouring the coffee in two mugs with his back to her and he smiled, knowing full well what was coming next. "Hmm? Yes Ramona?"

Ramona resisted the urge to fidget, taking a more confident poise, crossing her legs and leaning against the edge of the armrest. "Now, you might not know this, but I'm currently trying to find a generous, charitable, brilliant and handsome prosecutor willing to take me in as a bit of a protégé." Since he'd commented on her wit, she figured she should ask her question in that form.

"Oh, well now! Isn't that interesting? Quite the list of criteria you've got though. Good luck finding someone who fits the bill." Godot said over his shoulder.

Ramona raised her eyebrows. "Yes, right, well I did fall short on my search for a prosecutor just like that. In fact, I couldn't a find a single one like that." She said sadly. "But, if there's any chance you're in the market for a beautiful, young assistant…" She left it hanging.

Godot turned to her with a smirk, leaning against the counter with his arms folded. Ramona couldn't help but notice how incredibly fit he looked. His snug, pin strip vest showing ever so slightly a well toned chest and the black bands on his dark green shirt seemed to be constraining against what Ramona felt sure to be well developed upper arms. His dark gray slacks hugged his long legs, stopping just above his Italian leather shoes.

"A beautiful young assistant you say? Is Katie looking for a job then?" He said, his smooth, deep voice conveying his humor.

Ramona glared at him plaintively.

He chuckled. "I'll tell you what Miss Karsten. I'll take you on as a part time assistant, but you have to answer one question correctly for me first."

Ramona sat forward in her seat, uncrossing her legs. She cast anxious eyes on Godot. "Please tell me this is one of those questions were your answer can't be wrong."

Godot turned back to the coffee, laughing. "I'm afraid not. There's only one answer that will get you the job."

She huffed out a breath, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "Are you going to ask me out on a date? And I have to say yes to get the job, right?"

Godot laughed. "Actually, I like to avoid sexual harassment suits, thanks all the same." A moment of silence. "Ramona? How do you take your coffee?"

She gazed at him, anxiously waiting for the question that would make or break the rest of her career. "Um, black please. I hate people who have to ruin perfectly good coffee with cream and sugar."

Godot threw his head back and roared with laughter. He turned around and walked back to the couch and, sitting next to Ramona, he handed her one of the mugs. "Looks like you got yourself a job."

She sipped her coffee, furrowing her brow in curiosity. "Not that I'm not over joyous about that, but what about the question?"

He smiled at her. "You just answered it love. Black was definitely the right way to drink your coffee."

She stared at him in astonishment. "That was the question?"

Godot nodded solemnly.

"No way! You're just messing with me! Do you really mean to tell me that if I'd told you to load my coffee up with cream, I wouldn't have gotten the job?" Ramona asked in horror.

He shrugged.

"No way!" She said again. "I think you still would've given me the job."

"Well, you never really know with coffee addicts. The caffeine makes us unpredictable."

She laughed.

Godot glanced at his watch. He stood and retrieved his files. "I'm afraid I've got a trial to attend. You're new job starts tomorrow. Show up at ten sharp...or elevenish….sometime before noon I suppose. Or one. Sometime before one sharp!" He grinned crookedly.

"I like the hours. But, couldn't I sit in on this trial?"

He glanced at her unsurely. "You wouldn't be much help in a case you know nothing about."

"I can make your coffee for you."

"Think you can make it better than the bumbling rookie cop who does it for me now?"

She grinned, flashing her dimples. "Most assuredly."

He laughed. "Alright then, let's go."